Pied Piper
by PaladinMinerva
Summary: Long before 2B and 9S fended off the machines, and before Nier searched for Yonah, monsters known as The Legion terrorized the world. This is the story about those who fought them off. This is the story of the brave soldiers of the Hamelin Organization and their crusades.
1. Prologue: A Brave New World

_Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,_

_By famous Hanover city;_

_The river Weser, deep and wide,_

_Washes its wall on the southern side;_

_A pleasanter spot you never spied;_

_But, when begins my ditty,_

_Almost five hundred years ago,_

_To see the townsfolk suffer so_

_From vermin, was a pity._

"Due to recent Legion incursions in Europe, German billionaire Erhard Jentzsch has recently announced plans to form a military IGO dedicated to fighting off Legion influence around the world. Seven governments have currently signed on to the agreement, with more expected to follow over the coming weeks."

"I am currently standing here in Paris following a Legion attack. As you can see, The GIGN was just barely able to hold off the attack. As of this moment, casualties are unknown, but some estimates say at least twenty-five are confirmed dead, with that number expected to increase as workers continue to dig through rubble."

"And I-I personally think that this White Chlorination Syndrome is a bunch of hooey. I-It came out of a government lab i-in China, and It's an attempt for the United Nations and China to install a-a Communist one world hegemony and-and to take away our freedoms as Americans."

"We'll keep you safe." That's what they said. "Your militaries aren't doing enough." That's what the diplomats and businessmen in their fine silk suits said on television. The constant talks about the organization, the destruction caused as the Legion rampaged through major world cities, the women crying over their dead children in the crumbled ruins of buildings, the aid workers in their masks and orange vests. "This is for the good of the world." were the stories they told. "This will bring normalcy."

Government after government bent their knee, signed the Hanover Accord, sold their souls to the man who promised them safety and security. Countries you wouldn't expect even joined; the fear of The Legion was so large. First Germany, then China, followed by Italy, Israel, Spain, England, South Korea, the United States. Country after country joined the Hanover Accord hoping it would make them safer. World leaders grasping at straws for some semblance of normalcy. No one realized what would happen. We had created a Pied Piper, a siren song for our own doom. The organization promised to remove the rats from Hamelin, but they ended up removing the children as well.

Perhaps too on the nose, the newly formed government organization called themselves the Hamelin Organization. Based in the nearby city of Hanover, Germany, they were funded by a small cabal of venture capitalists and black budgets from world governments. No one blinked. No one thought of the potential cost. They just signed away their freedoms to this group that grabbed their hands and started pushing away from The Legion.

Then the worst of it began. The piper began playing his tune, whispering in the ear of the Burgomaster. They called for soldiers, volunteers from every country under their aegis. Their agents played puppet master and weaved the eligibility testing into schools and offices and houses of worship. This testing was tested on everybody who would step forward, but they found the best results with teenagers. Teenagers responded best to the compounds they found, had the least negative effects with the strongest benefits.

Despite international laws against child soldiers, they started drafting teenagers. Hamelin was handing them rifles, helmets, and magical inoculations of Luciferase, the lab developed compound found to be effective against White Chlorination Syndrome. Special forces from many countries were brought in to train them, teach them to fight an enemy much stronger than they were. They were given handlers, people to report to before and after their missions.

Hamelin started calling their efforts Crusades, based off what the German military called their efforts to push The Legion out of Europe. The young soldiers took it to heart. Internet raised teenagers painting "Deus Vult" on the sides of their helmets, red crosses on white t-shirts that they wore over their combat dress, several members even started carrying swords. The young soldiers saw it as a game, a real-life Call of Duty.

The Hanover Accord was seen by some as a late response to a widespread problem. A too little, too late as Legion forces were spreading across the world. Others, like Japan, had called into question Hamelin's methods and the power it held over governments, only to be rebuffed by everyone else. They were blinded by the spectacle, deafened by the stories being told.

But the point was moot. The Hamelin Organization had shown its prowess in its crusades, pushing The Legion out of Poland and retaking San Francisco. They were gaining traction; the soldiers were heroes. Hamelin had begun driving the rats out, and that's all the people saw.


	2. Chapter 1: For Now I Am Winter

"Denmark has just declared itself the first nation completely free of WCS. This follows a heavy disinfection campaign and tightened border restrictions that prevented free movement between the country and its neighbors."

"The Hamelin Organization establishes London office for the United Kingdom campaign as it continues to push north into Scotland."

"Las Vegas has recently been declared a total loss as US Air Force bombs Hoover Dam to prevent further Legion access into California. Remaining forces in the area have retreated to Denver, Colorado."

"The Japanese Government has recently begun their own offensive against the Legion forces, moving north from Nagasaki. They hope to retake Hiroshima by June."

February 20, 2020 Svalbard Global Seed Vault, Norway

Major Robin Skogstad's hands were frozen. Even though he was wrapped up in many layers and wore heavy gloves, heat was transferring from his hands through his gloves and to the metal on his rifle. A thermal mask was over his nose and goggles over his eyes, so at least he didn't have to worry about his face freezing. He hummed a song as he stood, staring into the snow. He checked his watch, which was wrapped around his coat sleeve, pressing the coat into his wrist.

"Shift's almost done." He thought to himself as he brushed several snowflakes off of it. "It'll be nice to get some rest. I feel like I've been out here forever." He stretched his arm to the side and let out a deep exhale. His breath came through the mask and drifted off into the air. He raised his gloves to his goggles to wipe some snow from them and looked out into the distance. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to color, as he almost missed the blur coming up over the horizon.

It was a dark blue color and was throwing snow and exhaust into the air as it drove quickly through the flat white snowscape. As it made its way closer, Robin could make out the shape enough to realize it was an oncoming truck. He quickly reacted, stepping in front of its path and holding out his hands in a "Stop!" position. The vehicle quickly slowed down, crunching snow and causing Robin to leap out of the way into a small pile of freshly tossed snow.

A rough, deep voice came from the cabin of the truck. "Sorry 'bout that. You're the first human I've seen for miles. Didn't really think about checkpoints."

Robin picked himself out of the snowbank and brushed snow from his jacket. He shuddered, as he didn't like the implication that "only human" carried. This guy had almost killed him, and he had time to joke. There had also been a sign, in six different languages, that this was an Identification stop.

Robin walked over to the idling vehicle. His hood blew fur, and consequently, some leftover snow into his face. He leaned into the window, placing his hand on the roof of the truck. More heat transferred from his already cold hand to the metal. "Identification, please." He said in English. "Please ID yourself and your reason for being here. This is a restricted area." There was an awkward pause as the driver glared at him. REM's hit, "It's the End of the World As We Know It" played from the truck's radio, and Robin drummed his stiffly cold fingers against the roof.

"Fitting." Robin said to himself as his mind ran through all the headlines from the past few days.

The driver grumbled something and dug through his pockets. "Can't find 'em. I have a delivery from France." He said, glaring towards Robin. "Some feckin' wheat sprouts or other. Couldn't be bothered to check my manifest." The driver looked down and lit a cigarette. "What's with the third degree? Just let me through, huh?"

"That's great, but I'm going to need to check the clearance level on your ID card." Robin said, chuckling nervously. "Can't just let anyone into the Fort Knox of seeds, especially in these times." He leaned to the side and twisted his foot slightly, his boots crunching the snow.

The driver grumbled and lifted the cigarette to his mouth. He pulled down the brim of the baseball cap he wore. "Don't have it. Think I left it back in Longyearbyen." He said grumpily blowing some smoke from his mouth. "Can't ya make an exception? Shit's probably freezin'. I'm no farmer or botanist, but I don't think seeds last too long..."

Robin paused for a second and looked towards the back of the truck. "I'll have to contact Base Commander Berven." He said to the driver. "If you could please wait here a moment." Robin stepped back from the truck and tapped on his walkie-talkie. "Sir? There's an armored car here in NATO livery. Claims to have a shipment of wheat. Did we have any deliveries scheduled today?"

"I don't believe so, but I could be wrong. Give me a moment." Commander Berven sighed and Robin could hear typing on the other end of the radio. Finally, his voice came back. "We're not expecting any deliveries, no. Now, I don't know where it's from, but don't let that truck get close to the vault."

Robin nodded and began to walk back towards the truck. The truck began to peel out when Robin got near it. Snow shot everywhere, covering the sign, the vehicle, and Robin himself. He shook it off and started chasing after the vehicle. His rifle beat against him. He finally stood still, dug his heels into the snow, and raised the rifle towards his shoulder.

"Stoppe!" He shouted as he tried to press the trigger. He pushed only to find that his gloved hand wouldn't fit into the trigger guard. He sighed deeply and cursed again as his hand struggled to remove the piece of removable cloth that covered his index finger. "Stoppe!" He quickly grimaced and started to remove his glove, shoving it into his coat pocket. Finger finally free, he felt the nipping cold as he took position, his heart racing. He steadily raised the rifle to his eye and lined up his shot against the increasingly distant vehicle's heavy-duty tire.

"Proper sighting." He said under his breath. He took a shot. The bullet sunk into the tire but didn't stop it. "Proper leading." He pressed the trigger again. The vehicle jolted a slight bit, and a taillight blew. "Proper positioning." One final shot rang out, stopping the vehicle in its tracks. The vehicle would immediately start back up a second later, tossing more snow into the air. "Faen i helvete." He cursed. He immediately ducked behind a snowbank. He was on his stomach, chin rested in snow, causing him to clamp his teeth together. He raised his scope to his eyes to get a better view of the truck as it continued forward.

"They're heading towards the vault." He shouted into his radio. "Driving straight towards it. I can't get a clear shot." Robin said, panic in his voice. "I think I hit a tire, but I can't be too sure. My fucking finger's too cold to actually fire." He groaned into the radio.

"Copy. Getting into position now." Was an immediate response.

There was the immediate crack of a fifty-caliber rifle from off in the distance. This was followed by a crack of glass. The truck stopped, throwing up even more snow. A voice came over the radio. "Target neutralized. Sending in cleanup crew."

Two soldiers in orange jackets and wearing HAZMAT Suits approached the truck, UMP-45's in hand. They first opened a body bag and opened the front of the truck. The corpse of the driver fell out, hat still on, despite the gory mess the .50 caliber round had made of his body bag zipped closed opened the back, to reveal a setup with connected pipes and a large central system. "Christ, that looks like a bomb." One of them said.

The second ran a gloved hand across the top of the bumper. He rubbed his index finger and thumb together. "It looks like salt. Christ, did someone develop a bioweapon? How the hell do you develop a bioweapon from that shit? We don't even have it isolated."

There was a quick "Look out!" followed by a gunshot as the soldier was tackled to the ground. The second one stood back as his partner screamed. The Legion ripped into his HAZMAT suit. "Fuck! I can't get a clear shot!"

The man on the ground screamed. "Get him the fuck off me! For fucks sake!" There were panicked screams and then another gunshot as a second one leaped from the vehicle. The second soldier stepped back and prepared to fire again before the second creature jumped towards him. There was a bit of a struggle, and he too dropped his gun.

A third voice came up on radio. "Skogstad, are you there?"

Robin fumbled for his radio. "Roger, I'm here. God, this is so fucked up. They're like animals." He sighed as he slumped further into the snowbank. Snow was falling down his jacket, getting his neck cold and wet.

"Good. Robin, can you get a clear shot?" The voice said. "I'll support you as soon as I can get a shot in."

Robin fired a round. The creature looked up and screeched. Robin took another shot. The smell of salt permeated the air. There was a third round fired and the creature was in a full sprint towards him. Robin's hands were shivering at this point, and he could barely bend his finger. He took another shot and the creature continued running full speed. It was almost face to face with him, and Robin could see the creature's red eyes reflected against the white and grey.

Robin quickly raised the rifle towards the monster's head, shut his eyes, and fired. There was a screech, and then a crunch as the monster fell into the snow. Two gunshots echoed behind him as the sniper took out the other Legion.

Six soldiers came into view. "Get them inside. Grab some more body bags." One approached Robin and looked him over. "Get Major Skogstad inside, quickly before he freezes to death."

Another thermal mask and hood looked Robin in the face. "Major, it's going to be alright. We'll get you warm inside. Just hang on."

Robin stood in a blank white room a few hours later. A small television in the corner showed international news, broadcasting the efforts of The Hamelin Crusades and other anti-Legion efforts. Two scientists in lab coats stood talking about some mathematical equations. A Styrofoam cup of Folgers was in his hand, and the smell of ammonia permeated the air. He gingerly raised the Styrofoam cup to his lips. It tasted like shit, but that didn't matter. Robin was just glad to have something hot in his hand.

(Author's Note: I would like to apologize for the delay. Classes caught up to me, and I lost half of what I had written. Updates will be more frequent from here on out. I would like to introduce my first protagonist: Major Robin Skogstad of the Norwegian Military. His storyline will be about YorHA and the work that went into the eventual development of androids.)


End file.
